


Memories and Petals

by Imanerdandliketoread



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Flowers, Gen, Language of Flowers, Muriel gets a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imanerdandliketoread/pseuds/Imanerdandliketoread
Summary: Nasmira explores the garden and stumbles across an eerily familiar tall stranger. She tells him about the language of flowers while reminiscing about the past.
Relationships: Nasmira & Muriel (The Arcana), Nasmira & Nadia (The arcana), Nasmira & Nafizah (The Arcana), Nasmira & Nahara (The Arcana), Nasmira & Natiqa (The Arcana), Nasmira & Navra (The Arcana), Nasmira & Nazali (The Arcana)
Kudos: 10





	Memories and Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was written for Icyfish on Tumblr for the Fields of Vesuvia Gift Exchange!   
> If you want a general understanding of about what the age differences are, I imagine them being around these ages after the end of Nadia's route when the present is set in this story:  
> Nafizah - 50  
> Nazali - 48  
> Navra - 42  
> Nahara - 41  
> Nasmira - 36  
> Natiqa - 33  
> Nadia - 32

Nasmira wanders through the gardens of Vesuvia’s palace, ghosting her fingers through the water in the fountain and marveling at the flowers she’d only ever read about in books before now. She passes the entrance to the hedge maze before turning the corner and stumbling to a halt. In front of her crouches a hooded figure she doesn’t remember ever seeing before but still overwhelms her with a comforting sense of familiarity at the sight. Their back faces her and they seem to be flitting large, scarred hands over a raised garden of Gardenias as though they’re checking for pests or signs of mistreatment.

“Hello,” The figure flinches when she speaks. “Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just wondering what you were doing out here,” Nasmira lowers her voice after seeing the reaction to her normal speaking voice. 

The figure slowly rises to their full height, the top of their hood standing almost two feet over her short frame. She notices the hunch of their shoulders and thinks for a moment. She doesn’t want to startle the stranger, in fact, she kind of wanted to find out who could be so tall yet so unassuming is stature.

The figure finally turns around. At eye level, a broad chest peeks out of the cloak, and a quick glance up reveals a strong jaw clenched tight, unkempt brown hair framing a scruffy face. “Hi! I’m Nasmira, one of Nadi’s older sisters,” She sticks her hand out but the stranger does not take it. Maybe he doesn’t like handshakes. That’s reasonable, Natiqa always has too. 

Her hand drops. “What are you doing in the garden? Taken an interest in the plants? Me too,” She smiles kindly, head tilting to the side in a way that makes her feel a little like Navra. 

A deep voice mumbles what sounds like “Muriel. I… like the herb garden but the gardenias caught my eye.” A blush lights up his skin, pale as though he hid in the shadows a lot rather than a natural paleness like she’s seen in some of the more eastern kingdoms. 

Nasmira hums pleasedly. “The gardenias are exceptionally beautiful this time of year, but I think I favor the Alstromeria. Do you want to walk with me?” She held out an elbow, hoping that Muriel would accept her company. 

He hesitantly loops his elbow in hers. She beams up at him. “Now, where were you heading? I myself had no destination in mind so I am perfectly fine with accompanying you to wherever you are heading. I would hate for one of my sister’s siblings to get lost or hurt when I could have helped.” 

Muriel takes one hesitant step in the direction of a bed of vegetables and, after seeing Nasmira take one to match, slowly heads in that direction. “I… wanted to check on Nadia’s roses. The frost has been getting worse.” 

Nasmira’s eyes widen. “Are you and Nadi friends? Have we met before? Oh, I am terribly sorry if we have, I try to remember faces and names but sometimes one slips my mind.”

Muriel huffs out a laugh, surprising her. By the way his eyes widen after, Nasmira suspects that he was also startled by the action. “We have, but don’t worry. People don’t tend to remember me unless I want them to. I prefer it this way.”

Nasmira peers up at him, jaw slack. “Fascinating! I wish I could do that. Must come in handy when you meet an unfriendly fellow.” Nasmira prides herself in the small twitch of lips that she thinks might be the beginning of a smile.

The come to a stop at the roses. The familiar sight of pink roses brings a warm feeling to her chest. “Say, do you know the language of flowers? I find it rather interesting, myself,” She twirls a curl of green hair around her index finger.

Her companion shakes his head. “Only know what’s poisonous and what tastes good with mushrooms.”

“It’s nice to have one’s preferences in order!” A giggle floats from her lips. “Roses, pink ones in particular, have a few meanings. Beauty, grace, new friendships. My eldest sister taught me the language of flowers herself. We had lessons weekly.”

A smile slickers across her face unknowingly as memories wash over her. 

Nasmira scampered through the hall, short legs carrying her as fast as they can. At the end of the hall, she watched as a flash of pink rounded the corner. She ducked behind the curtains nearest to her as a servant noticed the thuds of her harried footsteps and peered out of the servant’s quarters. 

Snuggled up in the soft silk of the thick curtains, she smacked a hand across her face to stifle her giggles. When Nasmira deemed it safe to continue, she threw the fabric back and began her chase again. _Can it be considered a chase when the person I’m chasing doesn’t know they’re being followed?_ She pondered. _Maybe that makes this a hunt!_ The thought forced a breathy chuckle from her lips. 

She lost sight of her goal when the servant looked for her, so she stumbled in the direction she hoped her sister had meandered down. She sharply skids around a corner before slamming into a tall… thing. The melodic hum of laughter that followed informed Nasmira that her hunt—chase?—was successful. 

“What, might I ask, is my silly little sister doing running through the halls like her dress caught fire? Could it be she was looking for something?” Nafizah had gently clasped her hands around each of Nasmira’s shoulders, keeping the five-year-old from unceremoniously tumbling to the ground. 

Nasmira peered up at her eldest sister, Nafizah being her sole focus. She took a second to catch her breath before beaming “I was coming to see what you’re doing! I saw you down the hall an’ I wanted to say hi but your legs are so long that I lost track of you and I wanted to surprise you cause I don’t see you much and I missed you!” 

Nafizah’s brow furrowed at her sister’s long-winded explanation. “Do you think we don’t spend enough time together?” When her younger sister nodded her head frantically she continued, “Would you like to do something together? Just you and me? I believe my only other priority is dinner with the family. You’re lucky, you caught me at the perfect time.” She smiled down at Nasmira. 

“What will we do, Fi? Are you gonna show me how to walk like a princess or take me to the gardens or pick flowers with me in the fields? I promise I won’t tell mamma if we do even though she says not to pick too many cause it’ll make the flowers have trouble making more.” Nasmira has to suck in a deep breath after blurting out all her thoughts in one breath. 

Nafizah tapped her chin with her index finger. After a few seconds of thinking, she asks “You like flowers, right? Maybe I could teach you what they mean.”

Nasmira’s eyes go wide. “Flowers mean stuff? Like ‘you’re cool’ or ‘go away’?”

“No, it’s more abstract, like hope or beauty. They can be combined to portray ideas, though. With the right flowers, you could apologize to a friend or profess your love for someone.”

“Whoa, yeah! You’ll teach me then? So I can speak flower too?” Nafizah hummed in affirmation, prompting Nasmira to jump and grab her sister’s hand, pulling in random directions. “Yeah! Let’s go! Please! Oh, please, please, pretty please?”

Nafizah led them down the hallway, back in the direction she had been heading originally. She opened a large, pale pink door with white accents. Her room was large, with two windows facing north, a shiny wooden wardrobe with brass handles, and a large bed being some of the only things automatically visible. Nasmira noted that a small nightstand with an empty vase sat on the side of the bed farthest from the door, holding only a notebook and several stampers beside it. To the left of the wardrobe, only coming into view when Nasmira peered in farther, sat an almost empty desk, holding only a lantern and a large tank, holding her turtle. She waved at the turtle unconsciously when it peered through the glass to gaze at her curiously. 

Nafizah drew back the curtains, letting sunlight spill into the room indirectly. This caused the light to hit almost invisible gold patterns embedded in the wall to seemingly glow, dozens of species of plants and flowers lighting up on nearly every wall. “This is how I learned to read the language of flowers. Every day I would let light in to show the flowers, and every day I would sit and make note of the subtle differences in meaning. This wall,” she gestured to the wall directly across from the windows, “houses all the flowers whose meaning relates to relationships. Roses, acacia trees, convolvulus, that sort of thing. And to the right, there’s negative emotions like hurt and agitation, shown by clotbur or the moving plant. Across from that, we have more generally positive ones, like the money plant, which means perplexity.”

Nasmira followed Nafizah’s finger as it indicated which part of the room she discussed, fascinated. Taking in every word she said. She watched as her sister described the connections between species and color, how flowers can build off of each others’ meanings and build a story unique to the bouquet. How context was essential for deciphering the meanings, as one flower of one color could portray several emotions, similar in tone but vastly different in meaning. 

Nafizah only stopped her explanations when the deep purple and blue of the sky painted the gold black. The color bled from the sky onto the carvings, darkness catching her fingertips as she explained the difference between a bay leaf and a bay tree. 

“Do you want to stop?” Nafizah paused, chuckling as Nasmira shook her head frantically. 

“Well, it’s getting rather late, we should probably stop for the day.” As Nafizah finished, a deep growl shook the room. 

Nasmira blushed as her tummy rumbled again. “M-maybe we should stop for dinner. But! I don’t wanna stop-stop.” she pushed herself off of the ground and held her arms up as Nafizah brushed dust off the younger’s green dress. After Nafizah deemed both of them to be in fit condition to head out, Nasmira wiggles her hand out and winds her fingers through her sister’s.

They walked hand-in-hand to the dining room, Nasmira doing her best to recall everything she had learned in the past several hours. 

Dinner was, as usual, a more laid-back affair. A table laid in the center of a small side room just set off from the kitchens, adorned with a silver table cloth with tassels that seemed to change color in the light. Six normal chairs surrounded it, with another two set aside with a large cushion resting on the seat to allow Nasmira and the even younger Natiqa to see. Finally, one tall stool sat closest to the head of the table where their mother sat, on it resting a soft, red baby’s blanket and several toys. 

The child it was for was swaddled against her mother’s chest, head peering out to gaze at her surroundings with big, red eyes and a thick head of purplish hair. Nasmira liked to look at her, not used to seeing someone so small in comparison to her. Even her younger sister Natiqa had long legs that allowed the three-year-old to peer over Nasmira’s own head if she stood on her tip-toes. 

The baby’s small fingers managed to wriggle their way out from the blanket, grabbing at hair and hands and anything that came within reach. Nasmira stared in awe as the tiny hands held onto a soup spoon with surprising strength. 

“-mira? Nasmira?” A voice startled the girl from her observations. “There you are; you were off in your head for a little bit. Nafizah was telling us how you’ve taken well to learning the language of flowers.” Nasmira nods at her mother’s question.

“Oh, wonderful! It’s such a beautiful way to communicate, so romantic!” her father croons, curling one long lock of black hair around his finger while his other hand idly stirs lentils around his plate. “Well, since you’re so well-versed in the language then why don’t you go ahead and tell us what flowers you think Nafizah is? She _is_ the one who is teaching you,” he adds.

Nasmira takes a bite of her green curry as she thinks. Her oldest sister is very amazing, and _lots_ of pretty flowers and their meanings come to mind before one really stands out. Her spoon falls to her plate as she wiggles excitedly. All eyes turn to look at her, even the pale green of a servant pouring more red juice into Nazali’s glass.

“‘Fizah’s a pink rose because she’s so dedicated and calm and be _autiful_!” Nasmira sneaks a glance at her eldest sister to see her reaction. Soft pink spreads across her dark face, the color reminding Nasmira of the delicate pink that so beautifully bled into the tips of her eldest sister’s shoulder-length hair. 

Nafizah cleared her throat, attracting the attention of the entire table, excluding the small infant wriggling in Nasrin’s arms. Her shoulders set back, jaw squared, the eldest sister commanded the attention of everyone at the table. “I think, my dear little sister, you may be wrong. I pose that, instead of grace or beauty, my pink roses symbolize the blossoming of a new friendship. We should spend more time together, all of us,” her gaze meets the eyes of each of her family members. 

Nasmira beams. “Friendship! I like it! We can all be friends, even Nadi when she gets older!”

The memories fade and Nasmira finds herself back where she was, standing beside Muriel in the rose garden. She hums. “I think, if you’re ready, it’s time we moved on.” Muriel nods.

“There’s a nice little pond over here. Hidden from view, most people don’t know about it.” Muriel gestures to a small parting in two curling trees.

“I bet that’s why you like it so much, so few people there to bother you!” Muriel doesn’t deny it.

The pond is small, with lichen and algae meeting in some gray zone between tree and water. They settle on a taller root protruding from the ground, reaching over the lake enough that if she takes her shoes off Nasmira could soak her feet. She does.

There are no fish in the pond, but algae tickles her feet in little motions that remind her of little fins swimming past. She buries her fingers in a patch of lichen, mindlessly fiddling with it. 

The action reminds her of one of her last memories of Nadi before she rushed to get married, all those years ago. 

Nasmira didn’t understand it. Nadia _never_ wanted to play. She didn’t like playing dolls with Nasmira, or house with Natiqa, or even silly card games with Nazali! It was frustrating to watch time and again as each of her sisters worked tirelessly to reach out to their youngest sister, to no avail. When she tried to get Nadi involved in whatever activity she was working on at the time, the youngest sister always brushed her aside, seemingly in her own little world where none of her siblings existed. 

And sometimes, Nadi would disappear for a couple minutes, running off in a tizzy only to return almost immediately with a completely different attitude. It made Nasmira’s head spin, so she decided to follow Nadi. 

She watched as her baby sister slunk out of the grand hall in the North Wing and headed off in the direction of the stargazing tower. The tower was disconnected from the main part of the castle, visible from the front due to its height but placed a good little walk into the forest behind the actual tower to limit light.

Maybe her sister was an astrology fan, rushing away when she felt bad to gaze at the star charts and glean their meanings from their placement and time of year. But her sister was a little too stuck up to really like astrology, at least in Nasmira’s opinion. She thought she remembered hearing Navra try to explain the basics to their little sister, only to get rejected coldly. 

So, if it wasn’t astrology, maybe it was just a stroll in the forest. Walking is good for stress relief, and her baby sister did make being stressed constantly seem easy. 

_Theorizing isn’t going to help me figure this out, I’m going to have to rely on good old fashioned stalking. Just can’t lose sight of her,_ she thought to herself as she hauled the massive door leading outside open, careful to not make too much noise lest she draw the attention of her target. 

She followed Nadi through the forest, hopping from moss patch to wet dirt clump to muffle her footsteps. Nadi seemed to head straight for the Star Watching Tower, despite Nasmira’s prior speculation having abandoned that train of thought. Just as Nadi made her way past the spiral arch doorway of the tower, she catches a glimpse of Nasmira and sprints away. 

Nasmira gasped, not expecting such sudden movement. She pulled her loose skirt up and launched herself over a small root protruding from the forest floor. Nadia made a sharp right turn just as Nasmira’s slippers caught on a patch of lichen, sending her tumbling to the floor. 

After gathering her wits and scurrying to her feet, Nasmira looked around to find where Nadia had headed, unsuccessfully. The youngest Satrinova sister had vanished. 

Nasmira flopped onto the forest floor in defeat, fingers angrily fidgeting with the lichen that made her lose her balance. She glared at the pale green moss and muttered “This is all your fault, it was all going so well,” at it hotly. 

She sat alone on the forest floor pouting until the sun shone directly above her, letting her know that a good few hours had passed since she first wandered out with the intention of finding what steals her little sister’s attention so frequently. 

She stood up, picked a strand of moss from her darker green dress, and headed in the direction of the North Wing of the castle.

The forest floor fades and she registers the curious gaze of her companion. “I was just… remembering,” Her boice is soft, wistful. “Nadia used to hate spending time with us, it was a series of horrible miscommunications that drove her from us. She did her best to isolate herself, we rarely saw her. Y’know what? It’s funny, lichen actually means isolation. Huh.” 

She frowns, swishing her feet through the water. She looks around the area surrounding the pond, trying to find somethingto distract her. Then she spots a lone cedar tree. 

“Look,” She points. “THat’s a cendar. They tend to symbolize strength. Cedars always remind me of my older sister, Nahara. She’s strong, not because she’s unbreakable but because she can acknowledge when something hurts or scares her.”

Nahara led Nazali, Navra, and Nasmira to the middle sisters’ secret hideout. In a grove of cedar trees lies a clearing, just far enough from the main palace grounds that the guards aren’t likely to find them, the sisters clambered through brushes and settled in. Nasmira watched as Nazali, donning their favorite brown fighting outfit and matching scarf, pulled out their weapon of choice, a silver lance. 

Nasmira paused as they got into fancy positions to start before lurching forward, weapons clashing. She wrinkled her nose at the violence, turning to Navra and making a silly face. The pair giggled before wandering further from the fighting duo to look at some flowers that grew in a patch just a little ways away from where they stood. 

Navra crouched and pointed at a little beetle that crawled across the stem of a flower. “This is a ladybug, they eat parasites that eat our flowers.” 

Nasmira peered at the little insect. “It’s pretty,” she whispered, almost afraid to scare the creature off with her sound.

A shine caught her eye from just in the distance. She slowly rose to her feet and determinedly crept over to where she thought she saw movement. When she stood at the base of the tallest cedar tree in the clearing, she spotted a pretty dragonfly, with a little back body and striking purple wings. It crawled along the bark of the tree until she had to strain her eyes to see it, it was so high up. She wanted, no _needed_ to show the pretty bug to Navra.

One of the trees nearby had lower branches than that tallest tree so she wrapped her little arms around one and hopped, feet scrambling to find perches. After a moment, one foot hit a good spot and with a little more wriggling she managed to prop up both legs on a branch behind the one she held. Using the shorter branch as leverage, she pushed her way up into a sitting position on the first branch.

She spared a glance at the dragonfly, checking to see that it hadn’t flown away, before she stood up and reached for the next branch.

When she was a solid height from the ground, she twisted around to watch Nazali and Nahara spar, Navra flitting from insect to insect that crawled its way across the floor. Another look at the tallest tree revealed that she just needed to scoot to the end of the branch in the tree she was in to hop across and begin her ascent on the tree of her desires. 

As she got to the weakest part of the branch it began to bow under her weight, leaves trembling as it shook precariously. Nasmira paid no mind to this, only reaching across the gap to grab hold of the other branch, which was just as thin as the one she sat on. 

A crack echoed through the clearing, loud as a gong. Nasmira only had time to think _what?_ before her stomach lurched. She realized why a moment later, when the branches of the trees rushed past her head.

She was falling.

She screamed.

At the last moment, she lands harshly on something strong, but much softer than the solid ground she expected to feel. She opened her eyes and saw yellow. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with what she was seeing; Nahara stood, holding her. Nahara had… saved her.

Nasmira huffed a sigh of relief before throwing her arms around her sister’s neck. “I was so scared. You caught me,” the small girl whispered. 

Nahara shifted so that she held Nasmira with one hand so that she could slowly pet her hair with her other. “I was scared too, but that’s okay. Fear pushed me to act without thinking. Fear made you grab at branches, which slowed your descent a little, even if it gave you some nasty cuts.”

Only after Nahara commented on it did Nasmira notice the burning in her palms. She uncurled herself from Navra’s shoulder enough to stare surprisingly at the thin gouges running across her palms in several places. 

Nahara must’ve done something to alert the other siblings of Nasmira’s safety because suddenly both sisters lurched forward, crowding around Nasmira. 

“Are you alright, little one? Those are some nasty scratches, nothing I can’t fix in my study lab, though!” Nazali clasped one of Nasmira’s hands firmly but not painfully in both of theirs.

Navra was already crying. “Oh, Mira! I’m so terribly sorry that I stopped watching you! It was only a second, it felt like, but there were some pretty ants and I was watching them march and then you fell! I’m so glad you’re alright,” She rushed out in one breath, chest heaving as sobs wracked her body. 

“She’ll be alright now, I think, as long as we get her hands cleaned up. Let’s go home,” Navra’s voice was strong but soft, encouraging her despairing siblings to carry on. Still holding Nasmira in one arm, she reached out to clasp her fingers in Nahara’s, comforting the still crying sister.

She led them back to Nazali’s miniature medical station, sitting Nasmira on the examination bench before making way for Nazali. As they patched up her hands Nasmira stared at Nahara in awe, still shocked by how quickly her older sister had sprung into action.

Nazali finished securing the bandages in place before moving back, “Tada! Good as new, huh?” Their comforting smile brought warmth to the green-haired girl’s chest and she couldn’t help but grin back. 

Nahara stood, placing a hand on Nasmira’s shoulder. “I don’t normally approve of naps, but I think now would be a cruel time to deny you the comfort. Come, let me walk you to your room.” 

Nasmira carefully waved goodbye to the two siblings, hesitant to disturb the bandages her sister had worked so hard to apply. She turned and followed Nahara out the door, knees still shaking just a little. 

When the door was closed, Nahara paused in the hall and turned to her sister. “I know you’re still a little shaken up, would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?” She chuckled when Nasmira nodded her head fervently, the sound so deep in her chest that Nasmira could almost feel it reverberate in her soles and up through her fingertips.

She giggled wetly when Nahara scooped her up into her arms, settling in. Silently, they walked across the wing to the smaller girl’s bedroom. As she swung the door open, Nahara made sure not to drop Nasmira. 

Nasmira watched as her older sister’s lips twitched into a smirk, shrieking as she was suddenly flung onto the bed.

“Watch your hands! We wouldn’t want you to aggravate your injuries,” Nahara warns. She sat next to Nasmira, turning to half-face her. “How do you feel, now that it’s all over?”

“I’m mostly okay. I’m just glad you were so strong! You caught me like I was nothing! You’re so _strong_ , ‘Hara!”

“I only do what I can to make sure you all are safe. I might not be the oldest or even the most well-trained, but I want to be the shoulder you all can lean on, the one you can turn to any time,” Nahara’s voice was shockingly soft, and for a moment Nahara wondered if she didn’t believe that she was already doing all of that. 

“You do, you are! We love that about you, ‘Hara! Now, why don’t we take a little nap, we deserve it I think,” Nasmira’s wide eyes and pouting lips make Nahara chuckle. The older sister wraps her arms around Nasmira and they both flop onto the bed, squirming to get under the blanket.

As they both drift off to sleep, Nasmira remembered to mention one last thing. “‘Hara, you’re my hero.”

“I hope it’s not out of my lane to say that I think you’re strong like she is. Most people don’t want to hide from the world unless they’ve seen it’s lowest points. You’re making the best of a crazy situation. That’s admirable.”

Muriel’s brow furrows. “I’m strong because I have weaknesses?” Nasmira hums in agreement. “I’ve heard that before,” The look on his face makes her think that whoever told him that means a lot to him. She doesn’t pry. 

“I suppose it’s probably time to move on now. My feet’ll prune otherwise.” Muriel snorts and she whips around to stick her tongue out at him, nose scruncing in amusement. 

“I think it might be nice to check out the herb garden. You said you liked that?” Nasmira glances at Muriel’s face as she slides her slippers back on. 

She notes the slight raise of his eyebrows, the relaxation of his jaw. She wonders if that’s what he looks like when he’s happy. He nods and they head off in the direction she thinks she remembers the garden being. When she gets turned around, he gently nudges her in the right direction, but they soon arrive at their destination. 

Muriel shifts in place for a moment. “Nadia… lets me take some,” He doesn’t meet her gaze, instead glancing at different herbs.

“Oh, how kind of her! Y’know what? I think I’ll sneak some basil. I always love extra basil in my curry,” she chimes in, trying to make him feel more comfortable. 

The pair settles in, picking and trading herbs until they had decent handfuls of “borrowed” herbs. Muriel pauses as he reaches to grab a sprig of basil in the back for Nasmira, the herb just out of reach of her shorter arms.

“Do herbs have any meanings?” He mumbles without glancing away from the basil. 

Nasmira nods even though he doesn;t see it. “Yep. most known plants have meanings, even if they aren’t flowers. Basil means hatred,” She wrinkles her nose at the sprig clasped gently in her palm. “Have you… hated someone before? It feels awful. Like stepping in sap. I used to be bullies, sometimes. The children of politicians and leaders can be so spiteful.” 

The sticky sap of hatred slides across her as she recalls her first encounter with cruelty.

“Why is she so short? Do her parents feed her?”

“Her cheeks are so pudgy, she looks like a toddler! Oh, she’s crying. What a baby!” Two voices bounced between tall cedar and oak trees, shouting at a smaller girl hunching over herself in a clearing just beyond the treeline separating her from her home. Just the tips of the spires of the castle she calls home can be seen from where she crouches. 

The two older teens stood tall above her, their mocking comments a sharp contrast to the lilting lies they used to lure her out alone. _We can pick flowers together, if our parents are going to be making agreements we might as well try to get along too!_ Their kind words stung as Nasmira remembered the soft smiles and outreached hands and how quickly they melted into insults. 

The teenagers that mocked her had come with their parents, visiting ambassadors of a nearby kingdom come to discuss developing trade and merchant routes connecting the two. They had approached the younger girl, promising that their few years of seniority would allow them to teach her the ins and outs of being a _proper_ royal. She thought she could trust them, despite Natiqa’s glare directed in their direction. 

As she cradled her knees to her chest, hands clamped over her ears to block their teasing remarks as much as possible, Nasmira regretted not trusting her younger sister’s judgment. Despite the three year age difference, Natiqa tended to be very in tune with the intentions of others. If Nasmira weren’t so jealous, she would be proud of her sister. 

A sob wracked her body as a crack drew the attention of her bullies to the forest behind the duo. Out of the treeline, barefoot and dressed in old blue playclothes, Natiqa stepped forward. 

“If you think you two pathetic excuses of the ambassador's children can stand there mocking my sister when you haven’t paid attention to _why_ you’re even here in the first place, well, you’re even more foolish than I thought,” her deep blue eyes glow with unadulterated rage and if it were directed at her, Nasmira would’ve flinched. As it were, the two standing in front of Nasmira, half-blocking her view of Natiqa, were squirming where they stood.

“Our father is here to open a mutually beneficial trade route between our nations, how dare-” The taller one started, brows drawn low.

“ _Your father_ is here representing a failing kingdom! Your king has disregarded the health of his citizens, hoarding wealth in his palace with people like your father. The only reason you’re here is because of building rumors of revolution. Your father has come to beg on behalf of a pathetic king for our support because none of the adults bothered to care about the suffering of the people they are sworn to protect! Your father is a coward, and so is your king!” As she spoke, Natiqa marched closer, the ground she covered narrowing the distance until she stood tall beside the bullies. 

Despite being nearly a foot shorter than the tallest of her opponents, the set of her shoulders and the width of her stance made her look like she was towering as tall as the heavens to Nasmira’s position on the forest floor. 

The ambassador’s children spluttered. “How dare you speak to us like that! Who do you think you are?” the younger of the pair stuttered.

Natiqa took one final step forward, a beam of light reflecting off the gold highlights on her cheekbones and piercings in her ears, giving her an ethereal glow. “I am Natiqa, daughter of Nasrin, Queen of Prakra, and descendant to the throne. I am _not_ to be messed with. 

“Unlike you, I am well within my place when I say that _you do not belong here_ , and I cannot wait to see your pathetic family leave my castle. You’d best hope you don’t see me or my siblings the rest of your time here, because I will make your life a living nightmare until you do. Now get out of here.” her tone was calm but her words bit. 

The eldest ambassador’s child scoffed before huffing and stomping out of the woods with their nose turned to the sky, their sibling scrambling to keep up as they wiped fat tears from their cheeks.

Natiqa watched as their figures slowly disappeared from view. As soon as the pair couldn’t be seen, she dropped to the floor, arms wrapped tight around Nasmira. They sat there hugging each other long after the elder sister’s sobs died down. 

Natiqa stood up, pulling a small stick off of her gold tights before holding her hand out to Nasmira. “What do you say we go look at the sunflowers? They’re really yellow this time of year.” Nasmira only nodded. 

The pair headed off in the direction of the sunflower garden, Natiqa never once letting go of her sister’s hand. 

Nasmira stared blankly ahead, watching sunlight filter through the leaves overhead until the treeline broke to reveal the garden. Hundreds of sunflowers reached toward the late afternoon sky, golden petals shining bright in contrast with their dark centers. The smallest flowers towered over Natiqa, just in reach of Nasmira’s slender fingers. 

She sniffled before reaching up to gently pull a flower from its stem, offering it to her sister. Natiqa took the proffered flower, lips quirked up into an almost smile before a mischievous look brightened her eyes.

The younger girl jumps to grab several other sunflowers, long stems twirling in her fingers. After having gathered a large handful, Natiqa gently nudges Nasmira’s shoulder before plopping down to sit on her legs. Nasmira mimicked her, green dress tucked under her.

Nasmira watched silently as the blue-haired girl wove several sunflower strands together, tangling them in a simple pattern. She tucked the last stem into place before holding out a sunflower crown and placing it on top of green curls. 

“Do you want me to show you how to do this? I found a book that taught me and I’ve gotten pretty good so I could probably help you figure it out too.”

Nasmira nodded.

Natiqa guided Nasmira’s hands into the right positions, showing her the proper movements. After a while of working in silence, she spoke. 

“Whatever they said to you, it’s wrong. You… know that, right?” She glanced up from her hands, peering at Nasmira’s face. Nasmira looked away. 

“I’m serious! You’re an amazing, kind sister who encourages my curiosity and inspires me to do what makes me happy. I love you.” Nasmira peered up from behind green hair to see blue eyes staring at her seriously. 

“I love you too, ‘Tiq’. You’re the best,” Nasmira’s lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. “By the way, how’d you know all that about why they’re here? The treaty discussions just began.”

Natiqa grinned, a dangerous light gleaming in her eyes. “I overheard Mother complaining to Father and repeated what I remembered her saying!”

Nasmira turns to see the concerned look on Muriel’s face. She registers the wetness dripping from her chin, tears splattering on her herbs. 

“Oh,” Her voice holds no emotion. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Don’t apologize,” He interjects. “It’s… hard to get over the bad things people do to you. It’s okay if you haven’t moved on completely. That’s what Asra says,” His cheeks light up in a furious blus hwhen he mentions Asra, but she pays no mind to that. Instead, she lets the comforting words seep into her bones, relief washing over her. 

“Thank you, Muriel. You’re a good friend.” She knows they haven’t known each other long, at least on her side of things, but she is comforted by the thought of them being friends.

“I think… maybe it’s time to leave the garden. I could walk you back to the castle if you want.” Muriel’s blush hasn’t faded but the two of them pretend that it isn’t there. 

“I would like that. I think I’m getting tired.”

They walk in silence for a while, quiet that Nasmira thinks is rather peaceful. Muriel must not think the same ebcause he suddenly speaks up, “Wild roses have medicinal properties.”

Nasmira raises an eyebrow. “Really? That’s fascinating. You know, my sister, Nazali is a doctor. They’re rather good at it, I’d like to think. They used to have big bouquets of wild roses in their examination room.”

Muriel grunts. “They can be used to treat minor injuries, slow bleeding.” 

Nasmira remembers that she used to watch Nazali grind up different herbs and powders to treat different things. They had tried to teach her all about that but by that point Nasmira had developed a strong distaste for discussioon of anything relating to an injury. 

She wrinkles her nose. “Useful, I suppose. Never took to medicine. myself. Too complex, there are new things being discovered every day. I could never keep it all straight.”

“But you have the time to learn what basil means,”Muriel huffs goodnaturedly and Nasmira chuckles at his grumbling.

They continue to discuss all sorts of plant-related topics, from which herbs go best with rye to how to identify poison oak at night. They reach the entracne to the palace and Nasmira is hesitant to end their converstion, dispite the exhaustion settling deep into her bones. 

“Thank you for accompanying me, Muriel. I hope we run unto each other again,” She chirps. 

Muriel pauses. “If you don’t want to forget me,” He rummages through his cloak, pulling out a pouch resting against his waist, “Keep this.”

“Are you sure? Oh, how lovely! We really are friends! make sure to visit me the next time you stop by for herbs!” Muriel nods, then they head off in their own directions. 

When Nasmira enters her room, she notices a jar with lilies in it, deep pink reminding her of old memories once more. 

She dreams of Navra.

Nasmira peered through the translucent orange curtains surrounding her older sister’s window. The girl was transfixed by what she saw; the third oldest Satrinava sister stood tall in front of a line of people, orange hair wrapped into an elaborate braid that curled over her shoulder, with jewelry expertly tangled into the top that curved onto her forehead. Her deep purple chest binding contrasted beautifully with the tangerine orange sari wrapped around her hips, gold patterns shimmering in the sunlight.

She approached the first person in the line, tilted her head, and chuckled as she murmured something to them. A pale blush crept across their dark cheeks and Nasmira shuffled closer in an attempt to glean any information about what could have embarrassed them so much. 

“-geous pink aura! You must _really_ love that special someone!” Navra’s soft voice was muffled by the faint sway of the curtains around Nasmira’s face. _What was she talking about? Pink?_ _I don’t see any pink._

Nasmira continued to observe from a distance as Navra approached the next person in line. She squinted for a moment, tilting her head back and forth. She sneezed suddenly, and as she rubbed her nose she muttered “Your aura is awfully pale, darling. It seems like you need to take some time to focus on yourself!” 

For the next few minutes, Navra approached each person in line and offered some comment, most related to colors of _something_. Nasmira watched as the final person was “analyzed” before the whole line turned around and left from the door, each of them walking just past Nasmira’s hiding spot.

“You don’t need to hide anymore, silly! They’ve all gone now,” a voice startled Nasmira from her thoughts. She turned to face the source of her voice and found Navra much closer than she had been before the guests departed.

“Your aura is purple, Mira. What is troubling you on such a fine day?” There she went, saying things that Nasmira can’t understand again.

“That’s exactly it!” She pouts. “You say stuff about auras and colors, but I just don’t understand!”

Navra giggled. “I could tell you if you want. I don’t mind, I like spending time with you,” Navra flipped her braid over her shoulder and led Nasmira over through a side-door. The room opened into a small boutique with a table with mirrors and several small cushioned stools scattered around the room. They settled onto some of the stools, Nasmira seated in front of the mirror and Navra peering over her shoulder. 

“I like doing things with my hands when I’m talking, is it alright if I do your hair while I explain?” Navra met her sister’s gaze through the mirror and grinned when she nodded in confirmation. 

Navra grabbed a thin golden comb and a few pins before weaving her fingers into deep green locks. As she braided and cut and pinned shiny pendants into Nasmira’s hair, she began her explanation into how she could see auras and what each color generally meant. 

“So, it’s kind of like the flower language? Where each color has a general meaning and things like who it is or what they do affect what the actual meaning is!” Navra nodded enthusiastically.

“Exactly! And look, you’re aura’s gotten pinker! How lovely,” She crooned.

“What kind of pink? Like the pink of Nafizah’s hair? Or maybe the roses in the garden?” Nasmira pondered aloud.

Navra set down the comb and tilted her head to the side. “It’s more like… the deep pink at the center of Mother’s new lilies, the ones she purchased from Vesuvia for Father.”

Nasmira’s eyes widened. “Oh, how gorgeous! Will you tell me more about auras? What aura does baby Nadia have most? Or Nahara! Tell me everything you know!”

Navra chuckled and picked up a jade hair clip, holding it against different sections of Nasmira’s head to see where it fits best. They talked for hours, exchanging knowledge of their different interests.

Nasmira wakes to the lingering scent of myrrh and flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing, I have a primarily fandom-focused side blog endoftheworldpaul on tumblr, or my main is mateodoodle.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
